Ten Fathoms Deep
by GgbroTG
Summary: Sergeant Edward-064 was a born leader. Lieutenant Duncan-B019 was a born survivor. Warrant Officer Hannah-A127 was a born warrior. Nolan was a born killer. What did they all have in common? Nothing. That's exactly why they were chosen.
1. Chapter 1

The Spartan suddenly stood as he heard his name called over speakers. He stretched and picked up his helmet from the seat beside him, looking into its visor for a moment. Momentarily he saw a glimpse of his face: rough, scarred… old. That was the truth of it. Maybe not in literal age – he was barely forty – but the amount of time he'd spent on the field was enough for multiple lifetimes. Despite this, he was proud to serve humanity. After all, someone had to.

"Edward-064 report to the Orbital Drop Bay for further orders." A voice said, somewhat robotic; probably an A.I.

He snapped out of his self-reflection and put the helmet on, the worn inside fitting snugly just as it always had, despite the modification it had been through during his time away. He had been offered an early retirement – an extremely valuable commodity for a Spartan – and had accepted it, but recent events in the Epsilon Eridani system had called for all battle-capable soldiers to be brought back into combat. Although, that didn't explain why his armour had been repainted in a flashy gold.

He dismissed the thought. It didn't matter, after all. Maybe he was in need of a touch-up – a fresh start. Although, it's not as if he had a choice in the first place.

Edward made his way to the Orbital Drop Bay, making good time considering he'd never been on the ship before. Passing marines would make comments on his size as soon as they thought he was out of earshot, though he couldn't blame them. Even for a Spartan, he was massively tall. Before long, he arrived at the Bay, rows upon rows of Orbital Drop Pods designed for ODSTs sitting at the edges of the platforms, ready to be dropped. As he came to the centre of the room, he was greeted by a group of marines and an officer of sorts.

"You called, sir?" Edward said, the accent of his British ancestors shining through despite centuries of interplanetary colonisation.

"'Oh-six-four', I see you're all geared up for duty," The officer said, studying the behemoth in front of him. "Good."

"What's the assignment, sir?"

"First of all, I must remind you that this mission is completely confidential, and technically speaking this conversation is not currently happening."

"Sir?" Edward asked, confused.

"Welcome to the team, Paragon One."

Before Edward could make any sense of what was said to him, he was being escorted down the row of pods by the group of marines. As they slowed to a halt he looked around at the nearby pods, taking note of a couple of Spartans a pod apart. He was walked past these to the next pod, and it opened as soon as he drew close. The marines stopped and gestured for him to enter, and he simply stood, bewildered. One of the marines cocked their rifle, and he sighed almost audibly. Was the UNSC betraying him? Abandoning him on some hostile planet? What had he ever done except serve them faithfully? No matter. He was being ejected from the ship no matter what.

He stepped into the pod and sat down, cramped in the small confines of the seat. The hatch hissed shut and he strapped himself in, staring through the glass at the marines who simply stared back. He looked to his right, where an M45 Shotgun was on a weapon rack, and to his left was an M319 Grenade Launcher. His two preferred weapons. Now he was even more confused. Was there a mission involved or not? Although clueless, he was certain he'd get an answer soon enough.

As the pod and the three others to his right moved away from the platform the screen to his right suddenly came online, the face of the officer who'd very vaguely briefed him appearing onscreen. The officer opened his mouth to speak.

"What's going on, sir?" Edward asked, prematurely interrupting the officer.

"I'm sure you've heard of what's happening on Reach, Spartan?" The officer asked.

"The glassing." Edward replied bluntly.

"Indeed." The officer paused for a moment. "We're afraid the same thing is happening or due to happen to Tribute, but we lost all contact with ground troops during the evacuation."

"What's the mission?"

"Whatever you deem fitting, Spartan. You're in charge now."

The screen flickered then went blank, leaving Edward alone with his thoughts once again. _Whatever you deem fitting._ The words rang in his ears and through his head, as if splitting his skull open. Those words were not something he'd ever want to hear; sure, he'd often lead troops, but always based on orders from the higher-ups. Anyway, if he was in charge, then surely someone would have to follow his orders…

His head snapped to the right and he leaned forwards, getting a glimpse at the Spartan in the next pod. They were definitely smaller than him, more of an average height, and – although murky through the glass of the hatch – their armour seemed to be coloured similarly to his.

He jolted back in his seat as he felt the pod shake suddenly, and he looked up to see alarms blaring inside the ship. The marines on the platform looked around for a moment, clueless, before turning to each other and exchanging looks of urgency, before running in the direction of the hangar. Edward banged on the hatch, demanding to know what was going on, but realised it was too late. The pods moved further from the platform, and all of a sudden, they were falling. As the thrusters on the pods engaged and they began to move away from the ship, he looked up and saw the vessel surrounded by Covenant warships, likely a miniscule portion of the fleet attacking Reach. He watched as the ship was torn apart in seconds, and simply buried his head in his hands as the fleet moved away.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" A voice said all of a sudden, crackling with interference. Edward turned his head to the screen on his left, and saw another Spartan.

"This is Lieutenant Duncan-B019, copy?" Another voice said, before Edward had a chance to reply; despite the quick reply, they were very quiet and clearly shy. He looked to the screen on his right, but all he saw was an empty seat.

"Copy that, Lieutenant. Warrant Officer Hannah-A127 here," the first voice replied. "Have you received any information as to what we're doing out here?"

Edward pressed a button on the panel above the hatch to his pod, and sat up in his seat, looking into the camera ready to address the other two.

"Lieutenant, Officer? This is Sergeant Edward-064, and – although it's hard to tell – I do believe I'm heading this operation, whatever it may be." Edward said into the microphone above him.

"Sergeant, what have you been told?" The officer – Hannah – asked. "All I know is my call sign: Paragon Three."

"Same here," the lieutenant – Duncan – began. "Paragon Two here."

"All I've been told is that I'm in charge." Edward said with a sigh. "Paragon One."

"Cut the chit-chat, we're entering Tribute's atmosphere," a new voice said, male and much gruffer than those before it.

"Spartan, identify yourself." Edward said in a tone that made him almost angry at himself; he sounded far too much like an officer.

"Nolan."

There was an awkward silence as all three Spartans expected the late arrival to state his service number, but he never did. Instead, they sat in silence, as Nolan had suggested. Before long, the downward thrusters on their pods disengaged as Tribute's gravitational pull began to draw them closer.

Edward took the opportunity to take a look at the planet beneath them, since he'd never left Reach when he was last in the Epsilon Eridani system, let alone visited Tribute. The terrain was fairly mountainous, and the surface was frostbitten for the most part, while snow-covered in less urban areas. Edward noticed a line of raised terrain leading from a nearby mountain down to the ocean, which supported rumours he'd heard – the planet was no stranger to volcanic activity. His vision skimmed across the coastline and stopped as he came across a fairly large city.

"Everyone, see that city along the coastline?" Edward began. "Try and land around there, we can regroup by the sea."

"Affirmative." Hannah replied.

"Copy that." Duncan said.

A low murmur was all that came from Nolan, but it was enough of a confirmation to set their plan in motion. The four engaged their directional thrusters and slowly but surely adjusted their course so that they'd land somewhere within the city. Just as Edward was satisfied with his course his vision became blurred, the incredible heat generated by the fall now visible as pure flame. He felt the air inside his pod become hotter by the second.

"Guys, there's something wrong," Duncan said abruptly. "It's too hot."

"It's supposed to be hot, idiot." Nolan replied bluntly, though the heat was clearly getting to him too.

"I know that, I used to drop alongside ODSTs all the time, but it's never been this hot."

"Any idea what the problem could be?" Hannah asked, her tone also changed by the heat.

"Either my pod's armour was damaged or my armour's effecting the pod," Duncan began. "Oh god, the breaking thrusters will malfunction if it gets too hot!"

"Calm down. Why would your armour effect the pod?" Edward asked, ignoring the Spartan's tone of anguish.

"No time to explain." Duncan said, his voice now taking on a tone of acceptance. "It's every ODST's nightmare, digging their own graves like this."

As they drew closer and closer to the ground, Edward felt his pod begin to slow, the breaking thrusters slowing his descent considerably. He looked out of the glass and saw two of the other pods slow down too, but not Duncan's. Although his parachute had deployed the thrusters had malfunctioned, and his pod slammed into the edge of a skyscraper at full speed, ricocheting of off the corner before plummeting to the ground below.

"Lieutenant, do you copy!?" He cried, awaiting a reply for a moment before repeating. "Lietuenant, do you copy!?"

There was no reply. All that was audible over the comms was static.

Edward sat back in his seat as his pod hit the ground, his descent stopped in an instant. He shook his head violently in an attempt to recover his senses, then looked out at the outside world. He had landed in an alleyway, it seemed, with only a very slight view of the street ahead of him. Although still dreary, he pulled a lever above his head then pulled another beneath his feet, initiating the hatch opening. He immediately became alert as something purple quickly moved along the street, only visible for a moment. Not a moment later another moved past, and this time he recognised it as a Covenant ghost. He cursed himself for already activating the opening, and realised that there was no way he could avoid fighting the Covenant convoy.

There was the sound of air hissing as the hatch began to open, and before long there was an explosion. The hatch flew off dramatically, flying out of the alleyway and making contact with a passing ghost. Edward grabbed his shotgun.


	2. Chapter 2

One moment Duncan had been falling in tandem with the rest of his squad, on course for a coastline city on Tribute. As per the usual, the heat was incredible, as it was every time he dropped. However, it had never been this hot before. It had been a while since he last dropped: five, maybe six months – it had gotten hard to keep track of the time since the incident – but he was certain that it was never this hot. Perhaps it was just his nerves, or perhaps it was the heat emanating from his armour adding to the already intense heat. Unbearable heat on the outside of the pod was one thing, heat on the inside was another.

Soon enough, the pod would begin to malfunction. Maybe the comms would freeze up, or maybe the hatch opening sequence would trigger prematurely, or – worst of all – maybe the breaking thrusters wouldn't activate. If that happened, then he would be as good as dead. He knew he was being paranoid, thinking that far ahead, but he couldn't help it. He saw things differently to other people; he saw how everything fitted together to work in tandem, and saw how events would play out. Or rather, how events _could_ play out. Sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse, he foresaw every possible outcome but always expected the worst. This was one of the times when his pessimistic side was correct.

One moment Duncan had been falling with the rest of his squad, the next he was veering off course towards a skyscraper. His braking thrusters didn't activate and he collided with the reinforced roof of a corporate building, ricocheting off of the corner and plummeting to the ground upside down. The impact slowed his descent considerably but also undoubtedly would have broken every bone in his body if he were not a Spartan. After but another five seconds of falling his pod crashed through the window of a building across the road from the first, finally stopping his fall after crashing through a few floors. At last, he had a moment to breathe.

Duncan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again and staring out of his pod. Although the glass was murky – more so after the crash – he could tell he was in an office building, though not a very busy one apparently. There were desks arranged in rows, but the papers strewn across the floor betrayed what had happened there. It was clear that the building had been evacuated for whatever reason, likely to do with the covenant attacks. He wiped the glass with his palm, getting rid of the layer of condensation that had formed, and scanned the floor quickly. _Yeah. Definitely abandoned._

He unstrapped himself from his seat and fell onto his shoulders, forgetting the fact that he was upside down. In the cramped quarters he somehow managed to stand up inside the pod, and reached up above him to pull one of the ejection handles. He pulled the other beneath his feet and stood ready for the ejection. Air hissed for a moment before the explosives detonated, sending the hatch through a nearby window. _No problem. Didn't need that anyway._ He reached to his right and grabbed the suppressed M7 submachinegun clipped to the side of the pod, and jumped out.

His pod was in fact still stuck in the floor above him, hanging from the ceiling precariously. Duncan patted himself down for a moment, before realising that he hadn't retrieved the supplies from his pod, and cursing himself. Despite his sometimes impeccable foresight, he always forgot the most basic of things. Retrieving ammo was supposed to be standard procedure, but it seemed that he'd forgotten the meaning of the term since the fall of Fireteam Valkyrie. Duncan reached up and grabbed the pod, before ripping it down from the ceiling. It landed with a crash, cracking the floor but not quite tearing through.

He began to rummage through the various pouches and canisters now littered around the bottom of the pod, picking out the more useful ones and tossing a few away. He suddenly froze however, upon hearing what sounded like a very low growl. He turned slowly, and came face to face with an elite, a minor by the looks of it. The elite stared blankly into his visor, as if not truly recognising his presence, before cocking its head. Duncan slowly sidestepped around the elite, preparing to attack as soon as he was behind the creature. Suddenly the crunch of an ammunition pouch beneath his feet startled it, as well as himself, and the elite span around, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him up.

The elite seemed confused by what it was holding, given that it could not see it. It stared at whatever it was holding – it could feel the heat emanating from its body – but couldn't make out its shape. The elite activated its energy sword.

Before the elite could execute him, Duncan activated his own weapon – a modified energy dagger on his left wrist – and plunged the blade into its throat. The elite let out a slight whine, before collapsing to the ground, bringing Duncan down on top of him. Duncan stood and deactivated the energy dagger, before looking down at his own hands. For once, he could appreciate the benefits of his unusual condition.

Duncan returned to the pod, and quickly gathered supplies before walking over to the window that had been smashed by the hatch. He looked out and judged the height, before stepping out and beginning a dangerous climb down.

* * *

As Edward jumped out of the pod he slung the grenade launcher over his shoulder and pumped the shotgun, relieved to find it already loaded. His relief flooded away as the ammo counter suddenly lit up, revealing that only four of the maximum six rounds were loaded. He silently cursed whichever lazy soldier had prepared his gear, before turning around to face his opponents. He ran to the edge of the alley and flattened himself against the wall, before peering out around the corner. The exploded ghost had killed its driver and stopped the convoy, and Edward was stuck in the middle of it. He quickly counted how many opponents he was facing: several ghosts, mostly driven by grunts, as well as a wraith. Nothing he couldn't handle. Well, at least nothing he wouldn't have been able to handle a few years earlier.

Edward quickly moved back behind cover as he felt he made eye contact with a grunt that was barely able to see over the top of its ghost, checking what the holdup was. He heard it shout something in a language he couldn't begin to understand, before hearing the low pulsing sound of a ghost nearing him. He tossed his shotgun to his left hand before bringing his right hand up to his shoulder, towards his combat knife. He gripped it, and as the ghost came past the alley he unsheathed it in an instant, flipping it mid swing and burying it in the grunt's chest. For a moment the grunt was suspended in mid-air, its ghost having continued on its path, before Edward shook his arm, causing the grunt to fall to the ground.

Edward sheathed his knife before reaching down and grabbing the grunt's energy pistol, pressing his thumb against the pad on top immediately, and charging a bolt of plasma. He waited a few seconds before stepping out from his cover, taking aim at one of the ghosts and firing. He saw the bolt hit the front of the ghost before burning straight through without much resistance. He heard a shout of pain as the bolt hit the driver – a signal for him to move forward. He dropped the pistol to the ground and broken into a run.

As the driver's shouts of pain caught the attention of the others, Edward sprinted towards the cluster of ghosts, unslinging the grenade launcher as he did. He fired a grenade into the centre of the group and took cover behind some rubble. As he heard the explosion he vaulted over his cover and readied his shotgun, aiming at the nearest elite. He fired a single shot and the elite was down. He pumped the shotgun again and fired a wide spread into the huddled cluster of ghosts, the pilots unsure of where to go during the chaos. He saw a couple of grunts fall from their vehicles as they were hit by pellets from his shot, and shielded himself with his arm as one of the damaged ghosts suddenly exploded in front of him, the elite pilot flying over his head. Edward pumped his shotgun again.

As the group finally began to coordinate itself, Edward rushed back, vaulting over the wreckage of a ghost and taking cover behind it again. He peeked over the top and saw the wraith turning to face his location, readying a shot as it did. As the wraith fired and a blob of plasma began to travel towards him, he jumped over his cover and broke into a sprint, moving for the wraith as he knew it would be a while before it could fire again. As the plasma hit the ground behind his former cover, the wreckage of the ghost was blown into every direction, falling apart as it did. The main body of the ghost flew straight towards Edward, but he noticed it, jumping as it drew close and landing on it momentarily. He leapt from the husk, using the momentum to throw himself onto and almost over the wraith, managing to grab ahold of the plasma mortar as he flew over it. He steadied himself and stood.

Ignoring the persistent firing from the grunts and elites around him, Edward fired a shot into the back of the gunner's head, before clambering to the back of the wraith. He hooked his legs around a piece of metal jutting out from the back of the wraith, and – hanging upside down – quickly located the exhaust port he was looking for. He took the only grenade he had from his belt, before pressing the button on the handle and stuffing it forcibly into the exhaust. He dropped from the wraith, landing haphazardly on his shoulders before scrambling to his feet and sprinting in the other direction.

Edward heard the grenade explode within the wraith, and made a final leap away from it before dropping low to the ground and locking his armour. A layer of blue shielding erupted from his armour, surrounding his entire body moments before the wraith exploded with a torrent of plasma which ate through the plating on the nearby ghosts, soon creating a chain reaction of explosions all around him. As the explosions halted and the cries of pain from grunts and elites began to subside, Edward disabled the shielding and unlocked his armour, before standing and scanning the wreckage.

He saw no signs of life, save for a few grunts on fire and barely clinging to their last shreds of life. He decided to leave them to it, and began to clamber over some of the wreckage, making his way back to his pod. As he reached the entrance to the alleyway, however, he froze. He stood completely still and silent, and listened carefully. He could swear he had heard the sound of a cloaking device being activated, but couldn't be certain. After a few moments, he began to think he had imagined it, but then he heard the opposite sound – a cloaking device being deactivated. _And it was right behind him._

Edward sidestepped and turned, narrowly avoiding being impaled on the energy sword of a surviving elite. The elite snarled and swung its weapon towards Edward, forcing him to duck to the ground to avoid the attack. As the blade made its way over his head he rose, bringing the stock of his shotgun up and striking the elite on the side of its head. It stumbled back and Edward kicked it forcefully, knocking it to the ground. Before it could stand, he placed a foot on its chest and aimed his shotgun at its head. He didn't think for a moment before executing it.

Edward collected all of the supplies he could carry from his pod and exited the alleyway, peering out in-between the opposite buildings in search of which way to go. He soon saw the glint of light on the ocean, and began to make his way towards the coast, in hopes of grouping up with his future team.


End file.
